


From This Day Forward

by kjack89



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mindless Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 10:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tonight was the night.</p>
<p>The night Enjolras was going to propose, the night he would ask Grantaire to spend the rest of his life with him, and he desperately wanted everything to go perfectly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From This Day Forward

**Author's Note:**

> Basically just mindless fluff.
> 
> Usual disclaimer in that I own nothing. I blame my beta for all mistakes and ignore the fact that my beta does not actually exist.

Enjolras poked his head into the bathroom, frowning at the steam that fogged the mirror. “Are you almost done?” he asked waspishly, half-worried that the steam would cause his hair to frizz. “You’ve been in here for almost twenty minutes and at this rate we’re going to be late for dinner.”

His fingers drummed an incessant beat on the door and Grantaire pulled back the shower curtain enough to stick his head out, blinking water out of his face as he scowled at Enjolras. “Have  _you_  ever tried to wash acrylic paint out of your hair? Because I’m going as fast as I can. And besides, we still have an hour left until our reservation so shut up and leave me alone.”

He disappeared behind the shower curtain again but Enjolras could hear him whistling so knew that he wasn’t really angry. Still, Enjolras’s fingers seemed to tremble and he bit his lip.

Tonight was the night.

The night he was going to propose, the night he would ask Grantaire to spend the rest of his life with him, and he desperately wanted everything to go perfectly.

Which was why he spent the next ten minutes pacing through their apartment, waiting for Grantaire to get out of the shower, checking and re-checking that the ring was safe in the vest pocket of his three-piece suit (Enjolras was pulling out all the stops for this).

When Grantaire finally emerged from their bedroom, shrugging his suit jacket on over a crisp white button-up shirt (though the top button was left undone, as was Grantaire’s preference), his breath caught in his throat when he saw Enjolras, and his eyes darkened. “How keen are you on making our reservation?” he asked, trailing his eyes languidly up and down Enjolras’s body.

“Very,” Enjolras responded dryly, though he smiled slightly. “Meaning we definitely do  _not_  have time for what you’re thinking. Besides,” he added, checking his watch, “we are going downtown, and if we want to beat the traffic, we should leave now.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Fine, but when we get there early we’re going to make out in the car until it’s time for our reservation.”

Chuckling, Enjolras held out his hand, smiling even wider when Grantaire took it. “Deal.” They started to head out when Enjolras remembered something. “Oh, right.” He disentangled his hand from Grantaire’s and disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, reemerging with a bouquet of red roses. “For you.”

“Roses?” Grantaire said, surprised. “You’ve been taking lessons from Prouvaire. Thank you.” He smelled them, closing his eyes for a brief moment. “I should put these in water…”

“You could,” Enjolras agreed, half-smiling. “But every second more we spend here is a second that we could be making out in the car…”

Grantaire dropped the roses on the counter and grabbed Enjolras’s hand, practically yanking him toward the door. “You’ve convinced me. Onward to the restaurant.”

True to Grantaire’s prediction, they arrived what Enjolras termed “fashionably early”, and spent a good twenty minutes making out, though both took care not to muss each other’s clothes  _too_  much. Then they went into the restaurant, still hand-in-hand, and Grantaire whistled softly under his breath. “Pricey place,” he commented.

Enjolras squeezed his hand. “I wanted to treat us. We don’t get to do something like this very often.”

“And I plan on enjoying every minute,” Grantaire told him with a cheeky grin. The grin was replaced with an appreciative purse of his lips when they were seated as he read the label on the bottle of champagne. “I’m assuming you have no idea what kind of champagne this is.”

Glancing at the bottle briefly, Enjolras couldn’t help but pat his pocket quickly, ensuring the ring was still there. “Um, I don’t know. Combeferre recommended it. I think it’s the kind of champagne James Bond drinks?”

Grantaire laughed. “That would be it, yes. Bollinger. And an  _excellent_  year at that.” When the waiter had poured him a glass, he took a sip and sighed in ecstasy. “Perfection.”

Enjolras smiled. “Glad you’re enjoying it.” He raised his own glass. “A toast. To us.” Grantaire clinked his glass against his and they both took a sip. “You can order whatever you like,” Enjolras told him. “Like I said, I want to treat us.”

“Lobster and caviar it is,” Grantaire murmured, though he winked at Enjolras to show he was joking.

They made it through the soup and salad course just fine, but Enjolras couldn’t help but slipping his hand down to check his pocket, constantly worried that the ring was somehow going to slip out, that he was going to embarrass himself. The waiter had just cleared their salad plates when—

“Dude, will you stop patting your pocket?” Grantaire asked suddenly, his voice breaking through Enjolras’s scattered and panicked thoughts. “You’re reminding me of Bilbo fucking Baggins the way you keep checking your pocket. I mean, the fuck, do you have the ring of power hidden in there or something?”

He sniggered, but the smile slid off his face when Enjolras froze slightly, Grantaire having hit a little too close to the truth for comfort. “Enjolras?” Grantaire asked, his voice jumping up an octave. “Do you, uh, do you have something in your pocket that I should know about?”

Both ignored the sexual innuendo that could be made there, the topic at hand too serious to force a joke into, and in lieu of answer, Enjolras dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out the ring that he had placed there for later in the evening, sliding it across the table to Grantaire, who picked it up, a look of something close to terror on his face. “What’s this?” Grantaire asked, his voice squeaking.

Enjolras could not help himself. “A purity ring. I thought we’d give celibacy a go, something to revitalize our relationship.” His voice was dry and Grantaire just managed to crack a smile at the idea of them being celibate. “What do you think it is? It’s an engagement ring.”

“Yeah, I see that,” Grantaire responded, sounding a little dazed as he picked the ring up, weighing it in his hand. “Jesus, it’s heavy.”

Biting his lip, Enjolras said worriedly, “If it’s not the right size or you don’t like or whatever, you don’t have to keep that one, we can get a different one, but that one…well, it was the best that I could afford because I wanted to buy it with my own money, money that I’d earned, not from my trust fund because I wanted this to be  _ours_ , you know?”

Grantaire laughed slightly. “Yeah, I know, Enj. But there’s nothing wrong with the ring, I promise.”

“Then—?” Enjolras started, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

Shaking his head, Grantaire leaned forward, still holding the ring in the palm of his hand. “Aren’t you forgetting to ask me something?”

Enjolras stared at him for a moment, confused, then his eyes widened. “Oh. Fuck. Um.” He grabbed the ring back from Grantaire, blushing furiously, and asked, trying to ignore the way his fingers suddenly started shaking, “Will you marry me?”

“I don’t know…” Grantaire started reluctantly, though his eyes lit up and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I do have to consider my prospects, Monsieur Enjolras. What would you bring to our union?”

“You mean besides my sizeable trust fund, a steady job that pulls in a salary far above poverty range and a two-bedroom apartment that I own outright?” Enjolras asked dryly, though he was smiling as well. He looked down at the table and took a deep breath before setting the ring in Grantaire’s palm, closing his hand around it and then holding Grantaire’s hand in both his own. “I will bring you coffee in the morning as an apology for my alarm waking you up. I will bring you a hungry stomach when you get pissed that I’m my age and still eating ramen noodles and thus force me to eat a decent meal. I will bring you passion and righteous fervor and everything that annoys you because it will drive you to arguing with me and I love nothing more than when you argue with me. I will bring you kisses and touches and a whole host of filthy things that probably shouldn’t be mentioned in a proposal for propriety’s sake, though I suggest a moment of silence here so that you can imagine them in your head.” He paused, grinning as Grantaire’s smile turned wicked, and then his own smile softened, and he raised Grantaire’s hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. “And I will bring you love. Every single day for the rest of our lives together.”

Grantaire grinned almost shyly, and he cleared his throat. “Well, I suppose that’s alright, then.” He pulled his hand away from Enjolras and opened it to show the ring still lying in his hand. “Yes, I will marry you.”

Enjolras grinned widely and fiercely, reaching out to slide the ring onto Grantaire’s finger. “Ah, but what will you bring me in our marriage?”

“Dude, you get me. What more could you need?”

Laughing helplessly, Enjolras leaned in to kiss Grantaire, a slow, heady kiss, wrapping his hand in Grantaire’s dark curls. “What more indeed,” he murmured, his lips ghosting against Grantaire’s lips before he kissed again.

When they finally stopped kissing several minutes later, Grantaire twisted the ring with his opposite hand, grinning down at the platinum metal. “So what else did you have planned for this evening?” he asked. “Amazing though this has been, you were far too nervous tonight for this to be it. There had to have been something planned that could have gone wrong.”

Enjolras snorted. “Well, you could have said no, so that could have gone wrong.”

“That’s not true and you know it.”

Waving his hand dismissively and rolling his eyes to the ceiling, Enjolras sighed, “We shall have a discussion about consent, independent decision-making, and the power of choice at a different time. You’re right though; there was more. I, uh…I may have planned a bit of a flash mob.”

Grantaire’s eyes widened. “How very 2011 of you.” He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “What song were you going to use? La Marseillaise?”

“No!” Enjolras protested, blushing furiously, though he amended, “I mean, it may have been in there somewhere. It was more of a medley than anything, with a bunch of our favorite songs. It started with that Bruno Mars song, ‘Marry You’, and it had that Death Cab song you seem obsessed with in it - ‘Follow you into the Dark’ or whatever - and it ended with the Prime Minister’s Love Theme from  _Love, Actually_ , which was when I was going to actually propose because I know you’re a sucker for that song.”

Grantaire’s grin had softened, and he reached out to grab Enjolras’s hand, smiling at the way Enjolras ran his fingers over the thin band on Grantaire’s finger. “That sounds like it would have been wonderful. I’m sorry to have spoiled the surprise.”

Enjolras shrugged. “I don’t mind much. Besides, you’ll get the chance to still see it. Courfeyrac would literally murder me if I called it off now after all the choreography I made him come up with.”

“Are you going to need the ring back?” Grantaire asked. “So that you can propose properly?”

Enjolras’s gaze flickered down to the ring then back up to Grantaire. “I was going to say yes, but honestly, I quite like it where it is.”

Grantaire grinned. “Me too.” He lifted his hand up, admiring the sight. “I don’t ever want to have to take it off.”

Enjolras caught his hand and kissed it gently before entwining their fingers together. “And you’ll never have to.”


End file.
